War Never Ends
by flavumetrubrum
Summary: The Plutarkians have invaded Mars again, and this time the mice face even more tragedy. A lost bro and a mission gone wrong are only the beginning of their adventures.


The ghost-like figure moved silently through the streets, its black cloak flowing behind. To any passers-by, it would have seemed no more than a shadow, passing through an alley. At one point the silver moonlight illuminate the hooded head, shaped as though it concealed large, rodent ears.

The figure finally came to a stop outside a lone building. The hooded head tilted up, and a distinctly male voice issued from somewhere within its depths, "Last Change Garage. Sure hope you're still here, Charley-girl." He walked the rest of the way to the door and knocked.

BMFMBMFMBMFM

Charlene Davis walked to the door of the garage, wondering who would be knocking on her door this late at night. "Coming!" she called when the knock sounded again. She yanked the door open and eyed the mysterious visitor. Slowly, the hooded head was raised, and light from inside the garage glinted off of green field specs. Charley gasped. "Throttle!"

BMFMBMFMBMFM

The two old friends sat in Charley's living room, staring at each other intently. Throttle was the first to break the tense silence. "How have ya been, Charley-girl?" he asked.

She cleared her throat. "Business as usual. Ever since the Plutarkians left, the neighborhood has been picking up again."

"Good," Throttle said. He looked at the ground. "Charley, it looks like the Plutarkians didn't leave for good. That's why I'm here."

Charley gasped. "They're back on Earth?" she asked.

"Not Earth. Mars. I was sent here to gather reinforcements; their numbers are far greater this time. Naturally, I came to you."

"I see. I don't know a lot of people who would just up and go to Mars to fight a war, but I'll see what I can do."

"That's all I can ask. I've already got a couple of alien sympathizers on our side. They're with a friend of mine now."

Charley nodded, not knowing how to answer that. "So, how have you been doing? Where are the guys?"

Throttle chuckled mirthlessly, and Charley thought she detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Things were going great until those stink-faces showed up again. Carbine and I got married a few months back."

"Congratulations!" Charley cried.

"As for the others, Modo's a high-up in the army now. Carbine recruited him herself. Once we left Earth and got back to Mars, the Freedom Fighters weren't necessary anymore. When the Plutarkians attacked, Vinnie got a band of them back together. Carbine had tried to get him in the army, too, but he wouldn't have anything to do with it. Said it was too strict."

Charley laughed. "That's Vincent for you. So he's leading the Freedom Fighters now?"

Pain flashed in Throttle's eyes and he looked away. "Charley, he…. Vinnie disappeared three weeks ago. He was taking a band of mice to check out one of the abandoned Plutarkian bases, and we lost communication with them. By the time the reinforcements got there, there was no sign of Vinnie or his troops. We searched for them as much as possible, but with the war going on right now we had to call it off."

"But, there's still a chance he's alive, right? I mean, you never found a body. So he could just be in a war prison right now," Charley interjected hopefully.

Throttle's eyes met hers again, and her hopes shattered when she saw the hopeless pain in them. "He's a wanted mouse, Charley. And not just because he's a Freedom Fighter. He—as well as Modo and i—is known personally to all the Plutarkians for crimes against their race. If he was alive when they took him, he's not anymore."

Charley broke eye contact this time, looking at the floor as tears filled her eyes. Throttle placed his hand on her shoulder, and she was surprised to feel it trembling. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Me too, Charley-girl. Me too."

BMFMBMFMBMFM

Magnum waited impatiently for Throttle to return with the other human. He eyed his companions warily, wishing he hadn't been left behind with the two radical humans. This was his first time on Earth and his first time seeing humans face-to-face. So far, he wasn't enjoying himself.

Throttle had assured him that the two alien activists were alright, but Magnum didn't trust them. So what if they liked aliens? The Plutarkians were aliens too. But no matter what his opinion was, Throttle outranked him. So he put up with the two eccentric humans and waited for Throttle.

Magnum walked farther away from his companions, who were chattering excitedly about going to Mars. Magnum was pretty sure that was the only reason they had agreed to help…. He gravitated toward the two bikes, admiring them. Throttle had left his behind in the camp, saying it would draw too much attention in the city. His eyes wandered to Vinnie's red racer, his chest constricting as he thought of her old rider. When Vinnie had left for his mission, he had entrusted his "baby" to Magnum. That alone was a huge honor; Vinnie had always left his bike with Modo or Throttle when his missions prevented its use. This time, though, he had trusted Magnum.

The young mouse had taken better care of the red beauty than he did of his own bike, looking forward to when Vinnie came back and saw how perfectly Magnum had cared for it. That day never came. At first Magnum refused to go anywhere near Vinnie's bike; the sight of it was too painful a reminder of his loss. But Modo had convinced him that Vinnie would have wanted him to have it. So he had traded his old bike for Vinnie's.

He smiled sadly as he remembered the older mouse, who was like his big brother. He had always called him "Rookie," and as much as he had hated the name he now wished he could hear it over and over. Throttle had told him the origin on the name; how the mouse Vinnie had looked up to as a father had always called him that when he was a young Freedom Fighter.

Magnum swung a leg over the racer, glancing in the mirror. Modo had always said that if it wasn't for his jet black fur he could be a younger version of Vinnie. He chuckled, knowing that was the large mouse's way of calling him rash and reckless. A high compliment, of course. Magnum had always liked being compared to his hero.

The young mouse was broken from his thoughts when he heard Throttle's voice from where he had left the two humans. He walked back, relieved to have a familiar mouse close by again.

"Throttle, what took so long?" he asked.

"I was catching up with my friend," the tan mouse replied. He motioned behind him to an attractive female. "This is Charley, the woman who helped me and the bros out while we were on Earth," he said. "Charley, this is Magnum. A good friend and an even better biker."

Magnum blushed but looked Charley in the eyes while he shook her hand. She had obviously been crying, and Magnum figured throttle had told her about Vinnie.

The other two humans had joined them by now, introducing themselves to the woman. Magnum moved away from the group. He had met the men already, and he didn't care to talk to them any more. He made his way back to the bikes and settled onto Vinnie's, sitting sideways and looking out over the city.

Throttle came up beside him, copying his pose on his own bike. For a minute he was silent. Then, "You miss him, don't you?"

Magnum sighed. "Yeah. He was like my brother."

"I know. He was my bro, too. And Modo's. We grew up together. But. But he wouldn't want us to dwell on it and let it distract us from our top priority: saving Mars. You know that, don't you?"

Magnum grunted in acknowledgement. After a moment he asked, "But how can I forget about him when everything about the stupid war reminds me of him?"

"You aren't supposed to forget him. Never forget Vincent van Wham," Throttle said emphatically. "But you need to move on. Focus on the now. Keep his memory alive, but don't obsess. And never, _never_, forget a bro."

Magnum nodded. "Thanks, Throttle."

"Any time, little bro. Any time." The younger mouse's wide eyes followed Throttle as he walked back toward the humans. He had never called him "bro" before, and the significance of the name did not escape him. He would keep Vinnie's memory alive no matter what. And if he was still alive somewhere, he would find him.

BMFMBMFMBMFM

Vinnie pushed himself off of the floor of his cell, groaning as he agitated old and new bruises. He crawled to his bed, too weak to stand, and collapsed onto the thin slab of stone. The only comfort it offered was being slightly cleaner than the floor. The overpowering stench of Plutarkian filled the small, dark room. Vinnie slowly drifted to sleep, pushing the pain and smell to the back of his mind. He glanced out the tiny barred window at the black sky. "I will get back home," he rasped. "I promise." His eyes closed and his breathing evened out.


End file.
